The Worst Shore Leave Ever
by Jaylen0827
Summary: The crew has a three-week shore leave, and between admirals, the flu, and well meaning friends, it turns out to be a disaster for Jim. Can it be salvaged?
1. Chapter 1

**The Worst Shore Leave Ever**

Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from these characters.

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Sulu's face was a study in concentration as he maneuvered the Enterprise into space dock.

James T. Kirk smiled at his helmsman. "Good job Sulu, not one scratch."

The Enterprise was in for a three-week refit and the entire crew was looking forward to the shore leave.

Sulu turned towards the captain to return the smile. "Parking brake on sir."

"Well, in that case. I think it's time to enjoy some R & R."

"Enjoy your time off sir."

"That I will Lieutenant, thank you." Looking away from Sulu to address the rest of the bridge crew, Kirk said, " Bridge dismissed. Enjoy your time off people."

A few cheers went up, a positive mood radiating from the whole crew.

The bridge quieted as crew members shut off their stations, said their goodbyes, and made their way to the turbo lift. It didn't take long for the bridge to empty of people. Everyone was eager to collect their belongings and make their way to the space port.

Jim knew his shore leave would not really start until next weekend. He had a debriefing, and meetings with the brass all week. He hated the idea of leaving his precious ship for the next few weeks, but knew that Scotty would be overseeing the refitting. Scotty had refused to take shore leave, muttering about "incompetent lackeys messin' with his lass." He felt better knowing she was being left in loving hands.

Taking a deep breath, he patted his chair, took one last look around, and walked off the darkened bridge.

* * *

By the end of the week, Jim was ready for the weekend and his shore leave to start. The meeting today had gone way past the scheduled time, but everyone had agreed they would rather stay late and finish. No one wanted to come in on Saturday and Jim agreed with the sentiment. By the time twenty hundred hours rolled around, he had a pounding headache and was ready to be done, they had been at it since oh seven hundred.

Jim shoved his papers into his briefcase with relief when at last the meeting concluded. Admiral Archer eyed the young captain with concern, as they rose from their seats. "You better put off starting that shore leave 'til tomorrow Kirk. You're looking a little peaked, feeling alright son?"

"Yes Admiral, nothing a little fresh air won't cure," Jim assured him. "Thank you for your concern sir and I think I will turn in early. It's been a long week." Jim smiled, turning on the Kirk charm.

Archer snorted, "Ha, it's been a long year for you! Sorry we can't give you more time off son, but with the fleet so reduced right now, we really need you back out there as soon as possible."

"I understand sir."

The admiral clasped Jim on the shoulder and steered him out of the room. "Go on, get out of here."

* * *

A blast of cold air hit Jim full in the face as he stepped out of the building. It was November and should have been around sixty degrees Fahrenheit, but they were experiencing below normal temperatures for this time of the year. The breeze coming off the bay made him shiver and Jim flipped up the collar of his coat, making his way toward the temporary housing assigned to him. He couldn't see having permanent housing when he was hardly ever on planet. Besides, Starfleet provided great temporary housing for their senior officers.

Jim's mind wandered as he walked. He smiled to himself, thinking of Bones' quick com last night. He was really happy for his friend. Bones was having a great time with Joanna this week. Jim snorted, thinking of Jocelyn. The cold witch couldn't very well deny one of Starfleet's golden crew visitation rights. Of course, the Starfleet lawyer, that Jim sent to speak to her, might have had something to do with it. Starfleet had been more than willing to provide an attorney at Jim's request.

Speaking of cold, Jim was really shivering now. He was glad when he finally entered his building, taking the lift to the appropriate floor.

Jim set his briefcase on the side table after entering his apartment, removed his coat, and threw it over a chair.

"Computer," he called out, "raise room temperature five degrees."

He passed through to the small kitchenette and replicated a cup of hot tea. After stirring in two heaping spoons of sugar, he carried it over to the couch, kicked off his shoes and settled down with his tea. Through the large window, the campus was laid out before him in all its nighttime glory, and beyond that, he could see ships lit up, moving slowly out on the bay. He remembered looking out the same window five days ago and being impressed. Heck, he was still impressed with the view. It was a big step up from the lowly, windowless dorm room he had shared during his academy days.

"I guess being a starship captain has some perks," he reflected.

He relaxed for the first time that day, feeling the hot tea and heated air finally warming his aching body. The idea of getting something for his headache floated through his mind, but the effort seemed overwhelming, so Jim set his empty tea-cup to the side, slouched down, closed his eyes and drifted off.

* * *

Something was pulling Jim from his sleep. He slowly became aware of a grinding, churning feeling in his stomach. "Oh no, this is not good." No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than he was jumping off the couch and lurching drunkenly in his mad dash towards the bathroom. He didn't really have time to wonder why the room was tilting madly. His need outweighed his awareness.

xxxxxxxxx

Sometime later, Jim jerked awake as his head slipped off his arm, descending toward the toilet bowl. He was seated on the cold tile floor with a towel over his shoulders trying to keep warm. He was utterly and totally miserable! His head was now laying on one arm as he slumped over the toilet. The commode was probably not the cleanest place to be resting his head, but he was too sick to care. Relief came with the realization that the room had finally stopped spinning. The dry heaves had finally ended and he knew he needed to dredge up the energy and put himself to bed. Sleep was what he needed.

Pushing himself off the floor, Jim grabbed onto the counter top for leverage. "Oh crap!" he thought, dropping back down as the room started to spin again. Rethinking his strategy, he decided to crawl to the bedroom. He would have dragged a garbage can with him, but thanks to modern conveniences, it was built into the wall. "Well, no more throwing up for me," he muttered. Finally ensconced in his bed and flat on his back, exhaustion took over.

Luckily it seemed his statement was self-prophesying and he slept the rest of the night.

* * *

Sunday afternoon found Jim staring out the large window again, but not really cognizant of the view. He refused to admit defeat and stay in bed, "This was his shore leave dammit and he was not going to be sick." Unfortunately that train of thought was not working. Another shiver racked his frame and he burrowed further into the comforter he had appropriated from the bed. Only his nose poked out from the front of his cocoon. Jim's body slowly began to list to the right as his eyes drooped. Suddenly, a sneeze jerked his whole body forward, causing him to almost fall off the couch.

His head was throbbing along with his heart beat. "Argh!" There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't ache. He had been awake for twenty-five hours now and was desperately in need of sleep. Between the sneezing, stuffy head, coughing, vomiting, and all around miserableness, he just couldn't seem to get more than ten minutes of sleep at a time. "Thith thuckth!" he complained around his stuffy nose.

Jim made the supreme effort, setting aside his "puke" bowl and tissues, he pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders, and sluggishly shuffled his way to the small kitchenette. A small mountain of dirty tissues was left behind.

Taking another dose of the cold medicine he'd had sent up yesterday morning, his whole body seemed to spasm with revulsion. "Yuck!" The foul tasting stuff didn't seem to be helping at all. "Tea," he muttered, "I need hot tea."

He stood leaning against the counter, waiting for the replicator, and feeling sorry for himself. "Thith ith the wortht thore leave ever." Pressing the heel of his left hand to his eye, he tried to relieve the pressure. His head felt like an overripe Casaba melon.

"Ok Jim, you're getting pitiful. It'th jutht a cold." His body slumped over the counter, laying his aching head on his arms. Untold minutes later Jim's body jerked awake as the replicator beeped again, sending him off into a paroxysm of coughing. Finally catching his breath, he pushed his body slowly to an upright position and reached for the replicator door, opening it. His body felt like it was moving through molasses. Gripping the mug with one hand and his blanket with the other, he began the arduous task of maneuvering his way back to the couch. Once ensconced back in his nest, he sipped the hot tea and reveled in the lack of nausea. Finally exhausted and filled with warm tea, Jim succumbed to slumber.

* * *

This is my first attempt at writing, so if you read it, please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or make any profit from this work.

Thank you so much for the reviews! There is one more chapter after this one. I am just dipping my toe in the pond this first time, keeping it short.

* * *

The room was hot, and a buzzing noise was dragging Jim up from the depths of sleep. He pushed the blanket off, but was still hot. What was that annoying buzzing?

"Thop!" he groaned, holding his head.

He heard a swishing noise and then Uhura yelling, "Jim, are you here? Did you forget our lunch date?"

"Thuth, don't yell." He squeezed his head harder.

"Jim?"

"thhh..."

"Are you alright? Wow, you look terrible." She waved a hand in front of his face... . "Hellloooo?"

Why was Uhura here floating around his apartment and waving her hands? Was this a dream?

"I mean you really look terrible! Do you think you're contagious?" she asked.

Jim just stared at her, totally spaced out.

"Ok, maybe that was a little callous," she conceded

A hand pressed to his forehead and Jim shivered.

"Jim, you're burning up!" Uhura exclaimed. "I'm comming Leonard. Good thing you always use the same key code to your apartments. I could just see you in here, passed out on the floor and no one the wiser."

Jim just stared blankly at Uhura. He could see her lips moving but couldn't really make sense of what she was saying. If his head would just stop throbbing and buzzing, maybe he could understand why she was here in his dream. He pressed his fingers into his eyes trying to stop the throbbing.

Jim realized that the buzzing noise had stopped and opened his eyes.

Uhura was standing, hand on hip, with an expectant look on her face. "Well?" she demanded.

He just stared at her blankly. Nope, no clue.

Uhura lifted her communicator to her mouth, "I don't think he's taken anything Leonard. He's got a pretty high fever."

"Ok," a voice replied, "we'll be there as soon as we can. Try to get his temp down if you can and keep him horizontal."

"Oh, that won't be a problem. I don't think he could move if his life depended on it."

All Jim heard was buzzing again and then nothing.

* * *

xx

The feeling of someone's hand stroking his forehead pulled Jim from his feverish slumber. There was only one person who had ever done this for him. In his hazy mind he could remember her voice saying, "It's ok Jimmy. I'm here. You'll be fine." Then there was a moist, cool cloth on his hot forehead, stroking and pushing his sweaty hair back. It felt so good. "Mm. Mom?" He croaked out. How could this be? His muddled mind tried to work this conundrum out. Maybe it was Sam. Sam took care of him when he was little. Before he left. Before Jim was sent to Tarsus. Jim's mind shied away from those thoughts, they were too painful.

"No Jim, it's me, Uhura." You're in your apartment at Starfleet. Remember?"

Yes, Jim remembered. His mom was dead, Sam was dead, and he was all alone.

The warm cloth lifted away from his skin and then returned moments later, once again nice and cool. "Shh, Jim. It's ok. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," Uhura's smooth voice lulled him.

He wasn't alone. Jim held onto that thought as he drifted away.

* * *

xx

The next time Jim awoke, it was to a hand on his shoulder gently shaking him.

"Come on Jim, that's it, open your eyes. I need you to swallow this. It will help with that raw throat of yours. I also want to check you over again."

What was Bones doing in his room? "I must be dreaming again," he thought, but the dream Bones kept shaking him. "Boneth, go away," he croaked, "ged oudda my dream." Then he felt a sting in his neck. "Ouch, thop thad."

"Don't be a baby Jim. Come on, wake up an swallow this, or I'm gonna have Spock over there hold you down, an pour it down your throat!"

Spock simply raised his brows at the good doctor.

Jim tried to use his best captainly glare on McCoy, but the room was too bright and it hurt his eyes. There was a glass still waving its way around in front of his face. "Thop waving thad around in frud of my fathe, you're maging me natheouth," Jim barely managed to get out.

"Then drink it and I'll stop waving it," Bones said, as the vile medicine cup was once more brandished in front of his face.

That was it. Jim turned green and threw up on the doctor.

"Ah shit!" McCoy exclaimed.

"I believe he did warn you Doctor," Spock pointed out, one eyebrow raised, "the statistical likelihood.."

"Spock!" McCoy swung towards Spock, one finger pointing at the commander, "You don't wanna annoy me right now." McCoy turned back to Kirk, disgruntled muttering under his breath, "Help me get him cleaned up. Sorry about this Jim, I should have realized."

James Kirk lay against the bed panting, skin almost as pale as the sheets, except for the two spots of pink on his cheek bones. He had passed out.

McCoy ran the tricorder over Jim and then took his pulse. Satisfied for the moment, he pulled his own soiled shirt off and threw it into the laundry bin, grabbing a clean one for himself and one for Jim, from Jim's drawer. As Spock helped him get the sweaty, soiled, sleep shirt off of their captain, something caught his eye. "Wait a minute Spock," he said, as he bent lower. "Dammit! This wasn't here earlier." There was a fine red rash all over Jim's stomach. "This isn't just regular Terran flu," the doctor observed. "No wonder he hasn't been responding to the meds. We're going to have to take another blood sample over to Starfleet Medical. Help me get this clean shirt on him Spock."

Once the Captain was all cleaned up and settled in warm, dry bedding, McCoy turned to Spock, handing him the blood sample. "Do me a favor will you? Double check his blood work personally, for me, just to make sure. I know Starfleet Medical is one of the best, but those idiots missed something and I don't want any more screw-ups. This is Jim we're talking about."

Spock nodded, "You have my word Doctor." He turned and hastened from the room.

* * *

xx

Six hours later, McCoy's communicator beeped. "McCoy here," he answered.

"Spock here, Doctor. I am on my way with the necessary medicine. I will be there in twenty-seven point three minutes. Spock out."

McCoy sighed and closed his communicator. This was a helluva shore leave for Jim.

* * *

xx

Bones' soft tone reached Jim. "Come on Jimbo, wake up. I gave you an antiemetic and an antipyretic, so you shouldn't sick-up this time. Come on, open your eyes."

Jim cracked his eyes open to slits. The room was dim now and his stomach wasn't rolling. "Hmmh...," he started to clear his throat but stopped at the raw, inflamed feeling. It felt like he had swallowed broken glass and metal shards.

Bones gently eased his hand under Jim's head, "I'm going to lift you up so you can swallow this medicine. It'll help with that sore throat," he said, lifting Jim's head to meet the cup. Slowly the medicine found its way down his throat with minimal spillage. Jim was too sick and tired to care and the medicine felt cool and soothing on his raw throat. He closed his eyes as Bones laid him back on his pillow. The throbbing in his head was starting to settle down a little.

Jim tried to gather his thoughts, "Boneth, whad are you and Thpock doing here? You're thuppothed to be enjoying your thore leabe."

"You don't remember Uhura coming over yesterday and comming me?"

Jim's brows scrunched in concentration and said, "No, bud why wath thhe here early? You're all nod thuppothed do be here dill Monday abdernoon."

"Jim, It's Tuesday evening. We've been here since yesterday," McCoy gently explained.

"Oh," he replied. No better response came to mind.

Just then, Spock strode into the room, handing the doctor a package. "Here is the medicine you require Doctor. I was able to isolate the virus. The captain has managed to acquire the Bajoran flu. In all fairness to Starfleet Medical, it is very hard to differentiate from Terran flu, and they have had very little experience diagnosing it. I believe you will find the requisite medical supplies you need to render proper aid." Turning toward Jim, he said, "I am pleased to see you awake and lucid Captain."

"Thankth," Jim replied. Finally taking note of his surroundings, he realized he was no longer on the couch and asked, "How did I ged in bed?"

"Spock carried you," McCoy replied, busy loading the hypo with the new medicine, "you were pretty out of it at the time."

"Uhm, thankth Thpock."

"No thanks are necessary Captain. You were incapacitated at the time and it was beneficial to your recovery to move you," Spock replied in his usual stoic manner.

Jim just stared at Spock and then over at McCoy.

"I feel like thit," he informed them.

Spock just raised one brow and nodded.

McCoy chuckled and said, "Yeah Jimbo, I'll bet you do. Well, this here hypo will help. It'll take a few days to kick in, but you should be right as rain by the end of the week," he promised, pressing the hypo to Jim's neck. "Back to la-la land for you."

McCoy ordered the lights down to ten percent, tucked the blankets tight around Jim and then put his hand over Jim's eyes. That was all it took, he was out like a light.

McCoy stood over Jim, hand still on his forehead. "Bajoran flu," he murmured, "How did I miss that? Dammit, I knew something wasn't right!"

Spock straightened up, hands in their usual place behind his back, and cleared his throat, "Ahem, you are not at fault Doctor. It is difficult to properly diagnose a medical condition without all the symptoms."

"Thank you Spock," McCoy replied, somewhat embarrassed but grateful.

* * *

xx

The next few days were up and down for Jim with his temperature swinging back and forth. Bones would hypo him in his aching neck, his fever would drop and he would sweat so bad they had to change his bed-clothes. A few hours later his temperature would start creeping up again. At one point he was shivering so bad he thought he broke a molar. Jim was totally wrung out.

McCoy would have put him in the hospital, but he knew Jim would get more rest at the apartment. So, Spock, Uhura, and himself took turns taking care of their captain, it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Finally, at the end of the week, his temperature improved. They also found out that there were three more cases of Bajoran flu at Starfleet Medical. Apparently, he had picked it up in the spaceport. Someone coming from the Tau Cygni campus had brought it over and the bio scanners hadn't caught it.

"Technology can't prevent everything," Bones ranted, "I keep telling you Jim, space is full of disease. I'm just glad we have Spock here batting on our team. He's the one who isolated the virus."

"I fail to see what baseball has to do with this Doctor."

"Oh, forget it Spock," McCoy replied, rolling his eyes.

Jim sat up in the bed, quietly enjoying the show, which he knew was for his benefit. He couldn't help thinking, "He had the best friends and crew in the galaxy."

xx

"Captain, Lieutenant Uhura wanted me to pass along a message. She will be stopping by at thirteen hundred hours to bring you something from Mitchell's with toasted almonds and coconut. I believe it is a frozen confectionery, that she felt would benefit your sore throat. It sounds most intriguing."

"It is Spock, stick around and have some when she brings it," Jim invited, "You too Bones."

"I just might do that," McCoy replied. "You know it's been a long time since I've had real ice cream, and if I know Uhura, It'll be the good stuff," Bones said, smiling his toothy grin.

* * *

Please review. I am new at this and would love input. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

Well, this is it. Short but sweet, hopefully... I loved writing this and will have to come up with my next one. Ideas anyone?

* * *

It was the Monday of their last week of shore leave. Jim had made great progress in his recovery in the last few days. Tomorrow the doctor was going to sign off on his medical release and Jim would be free to enjoy what little was left of his shore leave. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with it. Dr. McCoy was adamant that he not go too far, in case of a relapse. He had originally planned a road trip, but that couldn't be accomplished in five days anyway. That kind of left things up in the air, but it seemed that providence was stepping in. The Admiralty felt guilty, for keeping him in meetings the first week and then him being sick the next week, that they were planning to take him to an expensive restaurant Tuesday night to "celebrate his release and fatten him up." Bones made plans with him to go to Fiorella's Pizzeria for lunch on Wednesday. Thursday, Uhura and Spock (mostly Uhura) were going to drag him off to multiple art museums and then a jazz concert. Jim figured that would leave him a few day to laze about and read before he shipped out again.

* * *

xx

The rest of Jim's week was an unmitigated disaster.

* * *

xx

Tuesday night, Jim all spiffed up in his dress uniform, was picked up and chauffeured to a very expensive restaurant. The admirals immediately voiced their objections when Jim ordered a steak in a well renowned seafood restaurant. Admiral Morrow being the most vocal, vociferously complained, "You don't insult the chef by ordering a steak in a fish place! Broaden your experience and try some seafood," thinking that Jim's inexperience had led to his decision. Pink in the cheeks, Jim tried to explain, in the most diplomatic way possible with an admiral, that he was allergic to most seafood. Then it was Admiral Morrow's turn to pinken and awkwardly apologize. The evening was only made worse when Jim suddenly started choking and went into anaphylactic shock because his steak had been cooked on the same grill as scallops. As the emergency medical response team was jamming a hypo of epinephrine into Jim, he heard one of the admirals say, "Well, this evening was a major blunder." Jim had another word for it but he didn't think it was appropriate.

* * *

xx

Wednesday afternoon Bones laughed his butt off at Jim's expense, "Only you Jim, orders a steak and has an allergic reaction. Seriously though, you should carry an EpiHypo with you."

"Hey, it was totally not my fault," he defended, "but it was almost worth it to see the looks on their faces. We should be getting a few cushy assignments to make up for it," he laughed.

"Kid," McCoy said, shaking his head, "you're perspective is so screwed up. I don't even know where to begin."

Jim just smiled at him as they walked into the pizzeria.

* * *

xx

Four hours later, Jim was not smiling anymore. He was back at his apartment, throwing up in the toilet.

"I can't believe it," McCoy announced, "you're not having a relapse, you've got food poisoning! In this day and age, who gets food poisoning anymore? You know between last night and this afternoon, you could clean up if you get yourself a good lawyer," McCoy joked.

"Not funny Bones," Jim said, glaring at the good doctor.

"Ok, ok...now that I know what's wrong, I'll have you fixed up in a jiffy," Bones said, pressing a hypo to Jim's neck. It was a testament to how dreadful Jim felt when he didn't flinch or make a comment. Leonard felt awful, Jim's shore leave was turning into one calamity after another, and he had no idea how to fix it.

* * *

xx

Thursday, Jim tried to back out of his afternoon with Spock and Uhura, but she wouldn't take no for an answer and she could be very persuasive, a.k.a. "scary." So, Jim found himself being dragged from one museum to another. Currently they were walking through an exhibition of musical instruments. It was obscene how many different types of keyboard instruments there were. Harpsichord, Virginals, Spinet, Clavicytherium, Ottavino, Clavichord, pianoforte, etc. The list went on and on and Spock felt the need to discuss the merits of each one. Jim felt like his brains were going to ooze out of his ears if they didn't leave soon. If he was being honest, he had found the drum section interesting. Jim had once played the acoustic drums in his sordid youth, but that was the extent of his musical appreciation. "Hmm," he wondered, "did playing music vids count?"

Uhura must have noticed either the inattentive look that Jim wore or his brains leaking out, because she suggested they leave and go to the Starfleet Botanical Gardens. "We could take a nice leisurely walk before the concert," she suggested.

He agreed. "Anything was better than this museum," thought Jim.

When they exited the museum, they all hesitated on the walkway. Cool, dank air hit them in the face, it was apparent that it had rained recently. The walkways were wet, and puddles had collected here and there.

"Perhaps we should just go get a drink before the concert," Uhura suggested, "in a nice, dry and warm Bar?"

"Sounds good to me," Jim replied.

"I am in agreement," said Spock.

They found a place close to the concert hall and as they were getting ready to enter, Uhura stopped suddenly.

"Oh, I dropped my glove," she said, looking around for the missing object.

Jim spied it lying a few meters away. "Here it is, I've got it." Just as he was bending down to pick up the glove, a gust of wind lifted the fabric awning above them and pushed the collected rain water off the edge and right onto Jim's bent back. Spock had grabbed Uhura and pulled her out of the way in time. Wide eyed and dumbfounded, they both stood there gaping at Jim, still bent over and sopping wet. He slowly stood up and turned around. His dress coat was soaked and water was dripping down his face. He walked over to the astounded couple, handed Uhura her glove and said, "I thank you for the lovely day, but I believe I will forgo the rest of the evening activities and take my leave now. Good evening."

Uhura and Spock found they could do nothing more than nod their heads and stare with disbelief as Jim turned and walked away, both thinking the same thing, "How could one person be so unlucky?"

* * *

xx

Friday, Scotty came to visit.

"Mr. Scott," Jim said shaking his head, "I know everyone is trying to help me salvage what is left of my shore leave, but all this help is killing me. If one more person..."

"Captain," Scotty interrupted, "I've heard all about the lamentable episodes, believe me, I have just the thing. Trust me laddie."

Jim didn't have the heart to say no to his chief engineer.

Mr. Scott had immediately noticed how jumpy and wound up his captain was. The others just didnae understand him the way Scotty did. Their first stop was the Museum of Starfleet History.

James T. Kirk was enthralled. He had never been in this building before, even though it was right on the Presidio campus and he had walked by it numerous times in the past. It housed the most comprehensive collection of space vessels Jim had ever seen: pre-warp, post-warp, small cruisers, large cruisers, transports, and other UESN ships. It housed a large array of Dr. Zefram Cochrane's research on experimental fusion-powered warp theory and a model of his first ship, the Phoenix. There was even the first matter/antimatter drive.

Scotty just stood off to the side, hands clasped behind him and rocking front to back on his feet. He had a big self-satisfied grin on his face as he watched his captain wandering around like a kid in a candy shop.

After Jim had investigated every last square cm of the museum, he and Mr. Scott went off to a sandwich shop.

Leaning back in the booth, Jim let out a sigh. "Scotty, that was a great sandwich and this was by far the best day of my shore leave. Thank you," Jim said sincerely.

"Ach, think nothin' of it. Twas no trouble at all," he replied. "Besides, the fun's just beginning. Stick with me laddie."

"You have more planned Mr. Scott?"

"Aye Captain."

* * *

xx

xxx

It took two days for Dr. McCoy, Mr. Spock, and Lt. Uhura to figure out where Mr. Scott had taken the Captain. When they did, they were furious. The three of them stormed into the engineering bay on the Enterprise, ready to tear into Scotty. It was the last day of shore leave and Jim had spent the whole weekend on the ship, helping Scotty in engineering. The captain was supposed to be relaxing, not being conscripted to labor away his last few days of shore leave!

They pulled up short when they heard music playing throughout the engineering bay. "Sweet Home Alabama" came on and they heard Jim yell from somewhere, "You heard the man Mr. Davies, turn it up!"

"Yes Sir!" Davies yelled back and the music cranked up louder.

They walked through engineering trying find Jim. All the people they encountered working, had a smile on their face, and were tapping hands and feet as they worked, obviously enjoying the music. The next song was Frankie Valli singing "I Love You Baby." Then came The Lovin Spoonful, "Do You Believe in Magic."

McCoy recognized the music, it was a mix Jim had made of his favorite 20th century music, most of them what might be considered love songs. "Build me up Buttercup" was playing now.

McCoy stopped one of the workers. "Ensign, where did y'all get this music from?" he asked.

"Oh, it's the captain's sir. He has a bunch of them that he plays depending on the mood he's in."

"The captain makes a habit of coming down to engineering with music?" Mr. Spock queried.

"Yes sir, Mr. Spock. All the time," the Ensign replied.

"And what mood would this music be indicative of?" asked Spock.

"A good mood sir, a very good mood," and he smiled a broad toothed grin.

"Thank you Ensign, that is all."

The Ensign nodded to the commander, "Yes sir," and walked away humming to the music.

They continued on their search for the captain. "You can't Hurry Love" was playing when they found Mr. Scott.

"Scotty!" The irate doctor yelled. "Just what in the blue blazes were you thinkin? Did you lose your mind man? I told you I wanted Jim to rest!"

"Aye, I know that Doctor, but I gave Jim what he needed, not what you wanted. He needed to spend some time with his love. This lady has calmed him down and picked up his spirits like no other cannae do."

"Mr. Scott," Spock inquired, "are you suggesting that the captain is down here wooing a female? In engineering? I find this highly inappropriate."

"Can it Spock," the doctor interjected, "I get it Scotty. The question is, did it work?"

Uhura looked on doubtfully. "I'd like to see this for myself."

"Aye, can do, follow me and I'll show ya." Scotty led the way over to where a pair of jean clad legs was sticking out from under a console. One leg was bent with the foot tapping to the beat. The chorus at the end of a song started and Jim began belting out, "Sha la la la la la la, la la la la Tee da," to a "Brown eyed Girl." Everyone in the engineering bay was smiling.

When he started singing "My Girl," McCoy rolled his eyes and kicked the captain in the leg. "Jim ya sound like a love-sick cow under there."

Jim immediately scooched out from under the console with a spanner in one hand, grease on his nose and a large smile on his face. "Bones! Spock! Uhura!" he greeted. "Have you come to party with us?"

"This looks like a grease party to me," McCoy replied with some disgust.

"Yeah it's great!" Jim enthused, "but later on we're meeting in Rec-Room Two for an air hockey challenge. That might be more up to your standards."

"All that time in space, getting on each other's nerves. And what do we do when shore leave comes along? We spend it together. Other people have families,"[1] McCoy observed.

"Other people, Bones. Not us," Jim corrected.

"Well in that case, count me in. I didn't plan on spending my last evening of shore leave on ship, but it sounds like fun. I'll bring the beer." McCoy had to admit to himself that Jim looked great.

"Spock and I will get some Chinese take-out and bring it," Uhura offered.

Jim's grin widened. "Sounds great. I'll see you all at seventeen hundred hours. Got to finish spiffing my girl up." Jim patted the console lovingly and scooted back under humming to "Daydream Believer."

Scotty motioned them out of ear shot.

"Well?"

"Ok Mr. Scott, I'll admit he looks pretty good. Maybe this wasn't such a dumb idea." The doctor admitted.

"Mr. Scott, are you inferring that the Enterprise is a woman that the captain is in love with? I find this highly irregular," Spock intoned.

"Absolutely," Scotty replied. "Although in this case it's a love triangle. He has to share her with me."

"Spock," McCoy explained, "humans have a long history of referring to ships as women. It's a tradition."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "That is illogical. Why would they do such a thing?"

"Ach, that's easy Mr. Spock. The captain and I, it's like we're married to the ship. We fight with her, forgive, love, hate, understand, anguish over, and give our soul to this ship. In return, she's our protector, comforter, and home," Scotty explained.

"Yes, I think I understand Mr. Scott," Spock replied introspectively, standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"So, when we're feeling a wee bit down in the dumps, there's no place the captain and I would rather be than here at home on the Enterprise. She fills a void within us that nothing else can." And so, with that new found understanding, they walked off to prepare for their evening activities, listening to Jim, happily singing in the background.

The End.

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Thank you so much if you reviewed! I was very excited to get reviews on my first attempt at writing. A big pin-up of Jim for everyone! :)

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[1] Star Trek V: The final Frontier (1989)


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